traced the outline of the
cathedral, and then another written in some mysterious character, and
having a space left for a signature.

"Let me examine what I am to pay so dearly for."

"Most certainly," said the demon, with a smile, and a bow that would
have done honour to the court of the emperor.

Pressing it with one hand to his breast, the architect with the other
held up the holy bone, and exclaimed: "Avaunt, fiend! In the name of the
Father, and the Son, and the Holy Virgins of Cologne, I hold thee,
Satan, in defiance;" and he described the sign of the cross directly
against the devil's face.

In an instant the smile and the graceful civility were gone. With a
hideous grin, Satan approached the sacred miracle as though he would
have strangled the possessor; and, yelling with a sound that woke half
the sleepers in Cologne, he skipped round and round the architect.
Still, however, the plan was held tightly with one hand, and the relic
held forward like a swordsman's rapier with the other. As the fiend
turned, so turned the architect; until, bethinking himself that another
prayer would help him, he called loudly on St. Ursula. The demon could
keep up the fight no longer; the leader of the Eleven Thousand Virgins
was too much for him.

"None but a confessor could have told you how to cheat me," he shrieked
in a most terrible voice; "but I will be revenged. You have a more
wonderful and perfect design than ever entered the brain of man. You
want fame,--the priest wants a church and pilgrims. Listen! _That
cathedral shall never be finished, and your name shall be forgotten!_"

As the dreadful words broke upon the architect's ear, the cloak of the
Tempter stretched out into huge black wings, which flapped over the spot
like two dark thunderclouds, and with such violence that the winds were
raised from their slumber, and a storm rose upon the waters of the
Rhine. Hurrying homewards, the relic raised at arm's length over his
head, the frightened man reached the abbot's house in safety. But the
ominous sentence still rang in his ears,--"_Unfinished and forgotten_."

Days, months, years passed by, and the cathedral, commenced with vigour,
was growing into form. The architect had long before determined that an
inscription should be engraved upon a plate of brass shaped like a
cross, and be fastened upon the front of the first tower that reached a
good elevation. His vanity already anticipated a triumph over the Fiend
w